A New Blazer
As I sit here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair, her words swirl around in my head, and tug at the sides of my mouth...and I'm trying hard not to smile. Smugly. Nobody likes a smug smile...except maybe the smug smiler. Now...I'm pretty sure my Lady Wonder Wench is watching. The woman was a sales lady, and she said, "My what a nice body." And she was talking about me. And my Lady Wonder Wench was standing right there. And Lady Wonder Wench is sitting on the couch right across the room from me right now, and from the expression on her face I know she knows what I'm thinking. And she's thinking, "The woman didn't mean it, she's a sales person." And I'm thinking "Yes she did. But I know from experience I better not smile. Because I know Lady Wonder Wench will roll her eyes, sigh, and put her hand on her hip again.\n I mentioned the other day that I was going to wear my gold lame loin cloth and purple ostrich feather for my dinner date last Friday with Lady Wonder Wench. I saw it start her thinking process...which went something like this: "He really hasn't bought any clothes since the Clinton administration. I'm going to clear out his closet." \n The thing most women including my Lady Wonder Wench don't really understand is that it takes time for a guy to break in his clothing so it's comfortable. Even Louie-Louie Generation ladies don't seem to understand that. A guy's jacket is just getting broken in after a decade or so. As long as I can still zip up a pair of Jeans, they're good to go. A guy wears a shirt for three or four days...as long as it passes the under the arms sniff test, what's wrong with wearing it one more day?